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We went camping recently (as you may know from the Taj Majal post). And so I am now in the phase of using the left over foods as my mid-morning snacks. My wonderful mother-in-law (Milly) usually brings a variety box of Svenhard’s danishes.  Usually all are delicious, but I’ve always shied away from the “Cheese Horn.”

For one, I don’t like the name.  It looks like a standard cheese danish.  So why do they call it “horn?”  What does “horn” even mean in the food world?  (Oddly, I tend to eat all the “Cinnamon Horns” while camping and for some reason I’m totally fine with those.)

Second, I am put off by the picture on the package.  The cinnamon horn has a picture of cinnamon sticks; the raisin-ette has a picture of grapes.  The cheese horn has a picture of soft-serve?

Well friends, this morning I am going for it.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  If I don’t post anything in the next hour, tell my wife, Miranda Kopfschmertzen I love her.

Blogged to you from my iPhone.

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As you my already know, I’m a big fan of road trips. Some of you have even joined me on some of escapades. And if so, you probably heard me say some to the tune of “It’s never about the destination; it’s the adventure.” (And I do not take credit for that statement. I am sure it’s a famous quote that I picked up somewhere. Probably Mark Twain - I seem to inadvertently rip him off all the time.) Such is the case with Simon Mayle’s “The Burial Brothers: from New York to Rio in a ‘73 Cadillac Hearse.”

This book was a super enjoyable, fast read about a dude who does just what the book’s title suggests. He buys an old hearse with the intent of driving it from New York down to Rio in time for Carnaval. Furthermore, it’s the mid-1990s when much of Central America is not yet tourist-friendly. Mayle convinces two other cohorts to travel with him and help out with the costs of a 15,000 mile, 13 country road trip. There’s no morale subtext or life-lessons to be learned. The Burial Brothers is a just a great adventure of three guys traveling and having the proverbial hilarity ensue.

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Blogging to you live(ish) from Ocotillo Wells. I write in praise of my Coleman brand, cabin style tent - The Taj Majal (called so as it is a excessively oversized testimate to my love for my wife). Over the five years we’ve been using this tent it has stood up to the elements. It has shunned the rain, blocked the sun, withstood the snow… And last night it stood up to a fierce, nasty wind storm. Granted, it was not a quiet night, and we and all our gear are now covered in a layer of desert sand. But she stood mightely and she stood bravely.

Blogged to you from my iPhone.

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You are Senator John Kennedy! You are Vice-President Richard Nixon! 1960: The Making of the President is a superb 2-man board game from Z-Man Games.  Z-Man Games did a great job creating an intense and fun head-to-head game.  You travel the country campaigning, buy media advertising, engage in debates, manipulate public perception of “the issues,” cause various intrigue and above all engage your adversary in shameless politics in an attempt to win the 1960 presidential election.

Max von Fischgeist and I had at each other via this board game recently.  He played the part of Kennedy (quite convincingly) and assumed the heavy Nixon mantle.  The tide of the game tipped back and forth all night until finally on election day Kennedy delivered a dash cunning, last-minute political maneuver that caused me to loose the election…well caused Nixon to lose the election.

One of the greatest thing about this game is how all of your political wiles and guiles are based in historical incidents.  So Kennedy doesn’t just reduce Nixon’s popularity in Michigan willy nilly, Kennedy plays the “Nixon Egged in Michigan” card to add embarrassment onto injury.  And if Kennedy wanted to give himself a edge over Nixon he could play the “High Hopes” card indicating that Kennedy palled around with Sinatra and Rat Pack to gain a little extra favor with the electorate.  Invoke all the topics and personalities from the 1960 election to help your candidate and hinder your opponent:  Sputnik, Cold War, Kruschev, Nelson Rockefeller, Martin Luther King, Jr., Volunteers, Peace Corps, Nixon’s Knee (Broken!), brand new voters in Hawaii and Alaska (their first election for president)… The game is really well thought out and loads of fun.

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Obi-won Kenobi once almost said, “Who is more foolish, the fool or the fool who argues with him in a parking lot?”

My nephew had his 3rd birthday party recently. His current obsessions include Superfriends and trains. And so he had his birthday party at Travel Town in Griffith Park and requested all attendees dress up as their favorite superhero. I chose Superman.

I had a Superman T-shirt. I augmented that with denim jeans and red boxers over the jeans (yes, over the jeans). Then I capped it off with a red cape that my mom made me. (Perhaps I caped it off?) (And not like, made for me years ago, but made for me recently, just for this event.  Good ol’ Mom and her master costuming skills!)

As the party was winding down, I started taking gifts and party supplies back to my bothers car.  On one of these trips to the parking lot, a Travel Town patron who was driving to the exit, slowed down by me and rolled down his window.  I’d received plenty of comments already about my outfit.  (I’d also received a lot of distressed looks from parents who clutched their children close as they were sure this grown man dressed in a Superman costume was surely a molester.)  But instead of of the usual, “Nice outfit!” this dude says, “Superman wore red tights!”  And not like a passing comment, but more as a throw-down-the-gauntlet challenge.

Granted my underwear were lacking the yellow belt-band I knew Super man wore, and I was wearing tennis shoes instead of red boots (which I jokingly referred to as “Superman casual” when people called me on my lack of detail), but I was pretty sure Superman wore blue tights and red panties on the outside.  So I politely replied, “No, I believe he wore blue tights.”

He yells back, “NO!  They were red!”

So then I realize I’m about to start arguing “tights color” with a guy who is arguing with a guy who is wearing a cape and his underwear on the outside.  Whether I was right or wrong, it could have only ended badly.  So I just made an angry face and told him, “You can’t argue with Superman!” and continued on my way.

But I was miffed.  I immediately pulled out my iPhone and went to the internet source of truth (Wikipedia) for vindication.  (In this case, Wikipedia served as the internet source of Truth, Justice and the American Way.) So, if you are reading this weird dude who argues with people in parking lots who wear their underwear on the outside - I was totally right.

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